Total pages in book: 54
Estimated words: 52437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52437 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Master returns panting like crazy and meets me at the big iron gate on top of the stone staircase leading down to Monsterland.
“Thank you, Master.” He plops down like he’s having a coronary, and I dig through what’s left of my backpack. The contents basically exploded when it hit the ground, but I’m hopeful some of my things survived.
My toothbrush is intact. My clothes are fine but covered in toothpaste. My protein bars are still in their wrappers but are more of a protein powder now. It looks like my extra ammo is toast. Who knows what happened to my rifle?
I run a hand through my hair. “I can’t believe Tiago did this.” I weighed myself before I left, and I’m down twenty-three pounds. Yes, I started off at one-thirty. Okay, one-thirty-five, but who cares? I’m still a wreck. “I need more food, Master. And clean water. What am I going to do?”
“You will let me do my job and provide whatever you need along the way.” Tiago’s growly voice sounds off behind me.
I turn, surprised he’s here.
Tiago has a long hunting knife tucked into his loincloth, a sword strapped to his back, and a steel helmet on his head. The strip of metal down the bridge of his nose reminds me of something the ancient Romans might’ve used.
“You’re coming with me?” I had the distinct impression I was on my own. After the meeting, where I said my piece and told the room I had to try talking to the Mountain People, I didn’t receive any encouragement. Just an ocean of silence and solemn faces. Although, one man toward the back did say they had a small piece of land used as a garbage dump.
“The Mountain People can live on a mountain of our shit,” he said, and the room roared with laughter.
I took that response as a big middle finger for my plan. And since it’s my life I’m risking, I walked away. If they want to put their pride above our futures, there’s nothing I can do.
“You think I would allow you to trek across five kingdoms on your own?” Tiago says.
I shrug. “Master’s coming with me, and you’ve made your disdain for my kind no secret.”
“You are my brother’s mate. I would never do that to him.”
I lean in. “Newsflash. I’m not his mate. I married him to break the Proxy Vow. He doesn’t actually give a crap about me.”
Tiago shakes his head in disgust.
“What?”
“You truly are a fool.”
“I’m uninformed. There’s a difference. And if you’d like to change that, then tell me what the hell you’re talking about.” I’m done with this game. They tell me nothing and then shun me for not knowing what’s going on. It’s a ridiculous power trip and a waste of my time.
“Alwar has always admired you. My brother feels his spirit in you.”
Alwar feels himself in me? I try not to laugh. Wrong brother, buddy. He gave that job to Gabrio. “Believe me when I say that Alwar was being prudent when he married me. As any king should be. But I mean nothing to him.”
“As I said, you are a fool.”
He’s probably right. I’m here, trying to save not one but two worlds. So, point for Tiago.
He continues, “My brother Alwar has never conceded anything to anyone. He’s fought and won. He’s fought and lost. But he’s never conceded. Until you.”
I frown in confusion.
“You are not a War Woman. You are a human. Yet he swore fealty to you. He vowed to never have another in his bed as long as you both live, while you did not reciprocate. It is unheard of.”
“But the marriage was just a tool, a means to an end.”
“Was it?”
I inhale slowly and exhale deeply. “That was my understanding.”
“A great king such as Alwar does not vow himself to a woman unless he believes it is his fate.”
“He thinks I’m his fate?” I say with a heaping helping of disbelief.
“Yes. And my brother is never wrong about these things.”
“He lost his throne to Benicio. I’d hardly call Alwar a mind reader,” I counter.
“Who is to say that wasn’t fate, too? It brought you to him, did it not?”
Maybe so, but I don’t believe a word Tiago is saying. “I guess time will tell.”
“Yes. But first, we must rescue him. Let us see if you are truly capable of being a War Woman.”
“I don’t believe in war, but I’ll try to get him back anyway.”
I’d planned on taking the entire day to hike down the stone staircase to get to ground level, but Tiago spared me the exercise and introduced me to their elevator.
Yes. Elevator.
It’s a wooden platform with a primitive pully system, powered by Wall Men arms, where one must hold a rope and slowly—hand over hand—release the line. No safety catches. No way to stop your descent if the rope slips from your grasp. Frightening.